The Dinner
by Liz Jean Tonks
Summary: When Dumbledore realizes what kind of treatment Harry receives at the hands of the Dursleys, he decides to rescue Harry and house him in a good home. The only trouble is, that home is Snape's home. And what is Severus to do when he realizes that he needs to make dinner?


AN: Written for the Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Assignement #11.

**Name**: Liz Jean Tonks

**House**: Gryffindor

**Subject/Task No**.: Magical Catering: Hogwarts Feasts/Task#2: Write about having to cook

**Word Count**: 2548

Thanks a lot to Mason and Angel, my betas :)

* * *

"What do you mean, Albus?" Snape looked at the headmaster with suspicion.

"I mean," Dumbledore said with a slight smile on his face, "that I don't think Harry should stay with his aunt and uncle. They mistreat him."

"I could've told you that," Snape grunted. He had met Petunia after all, and his dislike of her hadn't wavered one bit since their first meeting.

Dumbledore didn't respond immediately; instead, he cleared his throat and said, "We need a place for the boy to stay until he's old enough to come to Hogwarts. And I was thinking of you, Snape."

Now, Snape was horrified. "Me? What do you mean – Potter should come and live with me?"

Dumbledore nodded. "Just as I said. At least until I find a more suitable home for him. We need to get him out of that Muggle household as soon as possible, I'm afraid, or the consequences for the boy may be severe."

Snape looked at Dumbledore and thought of many ways to tell the old man to shove it. He always thought it was stupid to send The Boy Who Lived–_Lily's son_–to stay with some Muggles, especially when one of those Muggles was Petunia, who seemed to hate magic out of principle. Yet he _never _thought they would treat the boy so badly that they had to take immediate action. He was furious at Dumbledore; he could have chosen a more suitable place for the kid to stay–and for provoking Severus into caring for the little brat. Then he remembered why Dumbledore decided to leave Harry with his aunt in the first place.

"What about the protection?" he asked. "Petunia's house is the only place where Harry is safe, isn't it?"

"That's true," Dumbledore nodded, "and I've been thinking about that as well, Severus. However, I've come to the conclusion that, with his current circumstances, there are more important things than the safety enchantment. Of course, we should bear this in mind."

"What do they do to him?"

Dumbledore's expression sombered. "Beat him. Neglect him. Lock him up."

Snape wondered how Dumbledore had found all that out, but the old coot read his mind and answered this question.

"Minerva visited the place to check on the boy, to see if his magic is showing, and she was appalled. She says she'd never seen anything like that. She asked me to remove Harry from this place immediately."

"What will you tell the relatives?"

"The truth. That they don't care for Harry properly, and that we'll take things into our own hands. So, Severus, do you agree? Would you take care of Harry?"

Severus hesitated. It's _Potter's _son...the decline was right there at the tip of his tongue...

But hadn't he made a promise to Lily?

"_Temporarily_, Severus. We can still find another place for Harry."

Snape cursed under his breath. "I'm not rather fond of children, and–how old is he now, anyway?" Snape only asked the question in order to gain some thinking time; he knew, in fact, exactly how old Harry was. It was the end of September, and Lily's fifth Death Day was only a couple of weeks away.

"He just turned six." Dumbledore looked at Snape with a hopeful expression on his face.

"I – well, _fine_, whatever. For a _short _time."

* * *

Dumbledore wasted no time after Severus agreed, and the same evening, Snape met Dumbledore again at his house. Next to him stood a small, thin boy with a scared look on his face.

Even though Harry was way skinnier than his father and didn't have that arrogant look on his face–not to mention the age difference, Snape couldn't help but notice the similarity between James and Harry. The same black, messy hair, the same way he'd put his hand in his hair and push it aside; although, this gesture seemed more hesitant when Harry did it. The same facial features, the same innocent smile that Severus knew was far from innocent.

Trying not to scare the kid _too _bad, Snape forced a smile on his face, but it was a very thin one and faded from his face quickly as he spotted the sparkle in the brat's eyes.

Lily's eyes.

Dumbledore glanced between Snape and Harry. "Well, Harry, this is Severus Snape. You'll be safe here while I try to find a place where you can stay permanently. Does that sound alright?"

Even Snape could tell the boy wasn't alright with this. Hell, he was still debating if _he _was alright with this. He noticed the boy glance at him suspiciously; still, he nodded and said, "Yes, sir."

Dumbledore smiled. "Severus will help you bring your trunk in your room. Severus, a word, if you please."

Snape nodded and gave Harry another forced smile. He could feel the boy's stare on his back as he followed Dumbledore out of the house.

"Severus, are you sure the two of you will be alright?" Dumbledore asked, examining Snape's face.

"Now you wish to be concerned with this?" Snape hissed.. Does he think I'm not even capable of dealing with a six-year-old? "Of course."

"Good. If there are any troubles, you know where to find me."

Snape nodded curtly.

"Be kind to him, he's a bit frightened."

Snape rolled his eyes but nodded. "Obviously. Anything else?"

"No. Just make sure he goes to bed in time and gets a proper dinner. He hasn't eat anything all day except for a Chocolate Frog I gave him."

"Yes – wait, _what_? I need to cook?"

"That's the usual way of preparing dinner." Dumbledore looked at him amusingly. "Don't tell me a Potions Master can't cook a simple meal."

"Of course I can cook," Snape said, sniffing. As soon as Dumbledore's back was turned, his confidence faded.

It wasn't like he didn't know how to cook, it was just... he didn't have the best experiences with it. Unlike preparing potions, preparing quality meals wasn't a necessary skill set. And at Hogwarts, there was no need to cook; He could just go to the kitchens and ask the elves to prepare something for him, and there were regular meals in the Great Hall. When he was home for holidays, he simply went to Hogsmeade and ate there.

He hadn't tried to cook anything himself in years.

That would be too embarrassing to admit in front of Dumbledore or the child. Deciding that cooking couldn't be too difficult, Snape went back inside where Harry still stood, leaning shyly against the wall.

Snape remembered that Dumbledore had asked him to be kind and begrudgingly said in a light tone, "Come, I'll show you your room."

When they had reached the little room that used to be Snape's office, Snape left the boy in there and went downstairs. Just as he entered the kitchen, he realized he didn't have anything there to cook. He sighed and went back upstairs.

"Listen, Pot – Harry," he said, and the boy looked up. "I need to acquire some ingredients. Stay here, don't touch anything, and don't leave this room. Got it?"

Harry wasn't too happy with that, so he scrunched his face and said, "Nooo! Please don't leave me alooone!"

Snape made an annoyed expression, but he finally stretched out his hand for Harry to grab. It would probably be better if he didn't leave the six-year old alone here anyway.

* * *

It had been a while since he had come here; during terms there was no need for him to visit some Muggle grocery store. Though that may have been a good thing. He always had some Muggle money secured on his shelf, preferring to be prepared at all times. Nevertheless, he definitely preferred using wizards' currency and gathering items in Diagon Alley or Hogsmeade.

He tried to ignore the Muggles who were staring at him and Harry as if they were some odd pair–perhaps they were. Only when he nearing the shop's entrance did Snape realize that he must look peculiar in his black cloak, and Harry didn't looked very healthy with his skinny from and his shabby clothes. He snorted to himself; he didn't care what the Muggles thought of him or his personal affairs.

He guided Harry through the aisles of the shop and eyed the shelves. He the faintest idea what might be a good meal for a six-year-old. A good meal that was easily prepared. He turned to young boy next to him. "What do you want to eat?" he questioned sharply.

Harry looked at him a bit terrified, as if Snape had asked him something scary. "I...I dunno," he mumbled finally. "My aunt used to give me some bread."

Snape mentally rolled his eyes but remained passive. "I was talking about a _proper _meal."

"Proper meal?" Harry repeated, his voice uncertain. "I don't knooow... "

"Why don't you know?" Snape asked in an irritated tone.

"_If_ I'm at all allowed to eat a proper dinner. My uncle used to tell me–"

Snape interrupted him. "Whatever that fool told you, Harry, it doesn't matter now. You don't live with them any more."

Harry still didn't look assured. "Yeah, but he'd get _maaad_," he said quietly while looking down on his hands.

Snape just shook his head. "You understood what Dumbledore told you, didn't you? You don't need to return to your relatives' house. Ever. You won't see them again, so they won't find out and they won't be mad at you. Besides, they don't even have any right to be mad."

Harry shrugged.

"Look," Snape said, "you live with me, for now at least, and all idiocy that happened at your old home belongs in the past. Now, we are going to make ourselves a nice dinner. Got it?"

Snape couldn't even believe his own ears. Was this really him talking to a child like that? Where was the resentment he usually held against children? Especially, given his parentage. Potter's child.

Lily would be proud of him.

Would she? It was his fault, after all, that Harry had to live with his relatives in the first place. At least partly.

Snape swallowed and tried to rid himself of this sentimental moment. "Here," he said, pointing at a box with pasta on the shelf, "how about this? That'd be nice, wouldn't it?"

Harry shrugged. "Don't know," he mumbled, "I've never had any."

Knowing it was all too easy to cook them, Snape took a bag. Then he also bought some cheese, milk, and bread.

When they returned it was quite late, and remembering Harry's 'bedtime', Snape knew he had to rush the meal. Harry stayed in the kitchen with him –"I don't wanna be alooone" the little brat had cried–and to his own surprise, Snape didn't mind that much. Harry could be quite cute with his big, innocent eyes, and in spite of having the looks of his father, he seemed to be quite different from James. He didn't talk as much, and when he did, he was shy and humble.

He sat on the kitchen chair and watched curiously how Snape opened the bag of macaroni with a knife. He then put the knife on the kitchen counter, and Harry stretched out his hand for the object.

"Don't touch the knife," Snape snapped. Harry winced.

Snape turned the bag around to read the instructions on the backside. He was relieved to notice it was as fairly simple as he thought. He just needed to boil water in a pot and put the pasta inside once the water was hit the boiling level. He _accio'ed _a pot out of the cupboard and placed it on the stove.

"Aguamenti," he said while giving his wand a flick. Water appeared in the pot.

Then he lit a fire and turned to the little boy on the chair. "Be careful not to get too close," he said warningly.

Then Snape took the cheese. He decided a sauce with cheese would be better combined with the macaroni. He started rasping it by using a knife. Harry watched him.

"It's curious," he said.

Snape turned to him. "What is?"

"Weeell... That you told me I shouldn't get too close to the stove and all that. 'Cause my aunt always made me cook and help her in the kitchen, so I was next to the fire pretty much all the time. I know it's hot, there's no need for you to tell me that."

Snape rolled his eyes. Well, there it was, Senior Potter's arrogance.

"I am responsible for you while you stay here," he said firmly, "and I don't want you to get hurt."

"You're nice," Harry said after a pause. "Nicer than my relatives."

Snape was surprised and a bit flattered by the compliment. He turned to the pot and noticed the water had started boiling. He added the macaroni and then started melting the cheese in another pot.

Harry watched him interestedly.

"Erm," he said.

Snape turned to him. "What?" he asked while he went to the fridge and took out some milk for the sauce.

"Aren't you gonna take the water from the fire?" Harry asked.

Snape turned around and realised the pot had started shaking and the water started to overspill. He jumped over to the stove and careful enough not to touch the pot he took out his wand and made the pot move away from the fire.

"Scourgify," he said and the mess was gone. Snape sighed with relief.

"It's funny, that stick of yours," Harry said, and Snape turned around. He put the wand back in his pocket and said nothing, but Harry wasn't too shy to ask.

"Is it magic? Is that a wand? Is it a magic wand you got there?"

Snape hesitated. He didn't feel he was the right person to tell Harry all this. The boy would move out of his house any time, and there were other people more qualified to talk to him about his parents, Hogwarts and magic.

"You'll know when you're older," he said simply, and to his relief, Harry didn't press the subject.

He checked on his pots. The macaroni seemed to be ready to serve, but the sauce didn't look very satisfying. Snape took a spoon and started stirring in the mixture, but it didn't really improve. He took a spoon and sampled a little bit of the sauce. It tasted pretty much like milk with cheese, not a particularly nice mix, but he decided it was edible enough to serve. He added some herbs, hoping they would improve the sauce and then he tried one of the macaronis.

They, at least, tasted fine, so Snape placed the two pots on the kitchen table, took out two plates, spoons and forks and placed them on the table as well. Then he sat down and served first Harry, then himself.

"Enjoy your meal," he said with a smile, and it was the first honest smile he gave Harry.

Harry smiled back, and said, "Thank you, sir!"

They started to eat, and Snape watched the boy carefully. If Harry thought the sauce tasted bad, he was sensitive enough not to mention it. He himself thought that it was probably the least delicious dinner he had had in a while.

But at least, it was a dinner.


End file.
